


New Frequencies

by Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Attempted Seduction, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Body Modification, Branding, Brother/Brother Incest, Character Death, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Bonding, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Incest, Injury, Injury Recovery, Lies, Loss, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Murder, Muteness, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Permanent Injury, Psychological Torture, Rescue Missions, Science Experiments, Torture, Twins, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-12-30 05:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12101421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs/pseuds/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs
Summary: The decepticons have suffered a devastating loss, and most of them don't even know it. Only two of the highest ranking mechs are aware of the untimely death as well as the consequences it could bring, so they set about fixing it. There's no better way to hide what happened by replacing what was lost.





	1. Prologue: An Untimely Death

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N: Frequency is my OC and cannot be used without my express permission.)
> 
> Pic of Frequency at end of chapter  
> (I do not own photo)

****"We cannot let this get out."

 

The larger of the two mechs stared bitterly at the grayed frame laid out on the table before them, as cold and lifeless in death as he'd been in life. The only real difference was that the mech was no longer useful.

 

"A logical decision, my lord," the shorter of the two responded from where he stood at a monitor, moving away from it after a moment of silence to inspect the dead mech again, checking the wound that had ultimately ended his life. "It will cause discord, and Starscream will be quick to take advantage."

 

Light glinted off silver plating as the massive warrior gave a sharp nod of agreement, hydraulics hissing as he moved to stand directly beside the medberth, red optics of cold fire regarding the slackened faceplates below him. Faceplates that he hadn't seen for eons.

 

The mech certainly didn't look dead, faceplates paler than usual, but holding the same lack of emotion as always, giving the allusion of rest.

 

"I will not be able to explain away his absence for long." The larger mech rumbled darkly, his displeasure aimed at the inconvenience of the mech's death, not at all out of grief. "You are certain dark energon will not ressurect him?"

 

The purple mech's digits twitched from where they were curled over the edge of the shrapnel wound. "The dark energon would succeed in ressurection, but he will no longer be of use. He will be unable to perform his previous duties." There was a click of hesitation before he continued, turning towards the larger mech now. "Logically it would cause more damage than announcing his deactivation."

 

Scarred lips curled back in a snarl, the silver mech turning aside to upturn a nearby table, scattering the contents across the floor with a loud crash. "Starscream's death would've been so much more convenient!!" He roared, whipping around to face the purple mech who regarded him with disinterest. "The wretched seeker is replaceable! Soundwave was invaluable to the cause, and not so easily replaced."

 

Watching his leader pace, the purple mech was silent for a brief moment before speaking up again, helm following the silver mech's movements. "Don't be so quick to assume Soundwave is so valuable, my lord," the mech answered, clawed digits clicking against one another.

 

The silence was short lived, the decepticon warlord turning to face the scientist, a snarl on his faceplates. "Explain quickly, Shockwave, before I decide someone else is more worthy of your position."

 

Shockwave remained unmoving, completely confident in his value. Nobody could replace him, and he was most likely the only one in the decepticon forces that was truly irreplaceable. "I've prepared for every possibility, including the possible loss of command staff," -the scientist specifically left out the fact that he'd also prepared possible candidates to replace Megatron himself should he fall- "and I have a mech to replace Soundwave. Nobody will even realize that he isn't our lost tactician." The scientist announced emotionlessly.

 

Regarding the shorter mech, Megatron didn't even realize his pacing had ceased, unable to believe such a claim, even if it originated from the most brilliant mind possessed by either autobot or decepticon. "Explain." He ordered sharply.

 

"Soundwave was a split spark," the purple decepticon announced calmly, single optic focusing on the gray frame laid out nearby, "but like his emotions and memories, Soundwave found a way to delete the bond without causing negative side effects to himself."

 

Megatron took a deep vent, straightening up to his full height. "Where is the twin now? What is his faction? Why am I only hearing of him now?" The warlord questioned, a little suspicious of such an unbelievable claim. Twins were rare, specifically split sparks, and the fact that they both shared a high intellect and talent with technology made it even more far fetched.

 

"I have ensured Frequency's safety as well as his loyalty to the cause. I prevented him from remaining with the main force for just this purpose. He is currently posted at one of the decepticon outposts in the further reaches of space." Shockwave explained, moving over to the nearby monitor as he began typing away to pull up the mech's profile. "He has some personality flaws, and doesn't share the same undying loyalty as his brother, but there is no reason to question it as of yet. He shared the same technological gifts and intellect as Soundwave as well. He will be able to pass as his twin without too many questions being asked."

 

Scarred lips curled back from sharp denta, a deep rumble sounding in Megatron's chassis now. "Questions will still be asked?" He demanded sharply, not liking the holes in the plan.

 

"As I said, my lord," the scientist dipped his helm ever so slightly, "he has a very different personality than Soundwave. He is excitable, optimistic, talkative, and has an interest in music. His personality is closest to the autobot TIC Jazz than it is to Soundwave. I can only guess your deceased third was similar before taking his vows and deleting unneeded emotions." Shockwave explained, red optic regarding the nearby frame for a moment. "Mechs will ask questions if they notice the change in personality, even if it weren't so blatant."

 

Megatron rumbled softly in his chassis, attempting to think of a way around the issue. "What of Soundwave's vow of silence? Will his brother take them up as a show of his loyalty?" The warlord questioned, his shorter companion contemplating for a moment before responding, choosing his words carefully. "Possibly. Frequency would very much do so if it were required, but it wouldn't hold the same for him as it did to Soundwave. Wouldn't hold as much importance, though we may change that by using his brother."

 

"Explain," the silver decepticon ordered impatiently, not liking the way Shockwave paused between statements.

 

"If we told Frequency of it's importance to Soundwave, he may take on the burden as a show of respect for his twin." The scientist motioned a servo to the monitor he'd been standing beside for the past few kliks, Megatron moving to look. Frequency's profile had been opened, and the warlord was inwardly startled with how similar -- but also how different -- the mech looked from Soundwave. They shared the same frame and helm shape, but where Soundwave had been a deep purple, Frequency was a mix of white, teal, and yellow. Instead of a full mask like Soundwave, he possessed a yellow half-mask.

 

 

He was rather attractive.

 

Pulling away from the screen, hot air passed through the warframe's vents as he huffed, regarding Shockwave now. "You still haven't explained why I'm only hearing of this now." He stated, tone holding a dangerous edge.

 

"Safety of the plan, Lord Megatron. If more knew than necessary, the autobots would hear of it as well long before Soundwave perished." Shockwave answered, "then they would've been quick to locate Frequency and convince him of his misplaced loyalties. He joined the decepticon cause mostly for his brother, but he possesses the ideals of a neutral."

 

Megatron nodded slowly, begrudgingly understanding what the other mech was saying. Such a fragile situation was too dangerous in the hands of many, but in the hands of one it would prove to be invaluable. "Contact Frequency's commanding officers and order that he be brought here discreetly. Then make sure no one's left alive." The warlord ordered.

 

"I will see to it personally, my lord," Shockwave monotoned, dipping his helm again. "But one more thing my lord,"

 

The silver decepticon stopped on his way to the door, half turning to regard the smaller mech.

 

"What of the simbiots?"

 

"Without Soundwave, they are useless. Dispose of them."

 

Shockwave bowed again, remaining still from where he stood beside Soundwave's berth, watching the silver mech's retreating back before he turned his attention onto a nearby berth where Soundwave's simbiots had been sedated and laid out.

 

Making his way over to look down at them, Shockwave hummed softly before turning to another monitor. Useless? He quite disagreed.


	2. Replacement

“Could you stop moving around so much? It’s getting on my nerves.”

 

The voice crackled over the in-built comms, causing the visored mech to turn his faceplates upwards towards the camera erected in a far corner, giving a little shrug. “Sorry, Take Off. Kinda nervous. Don’t know what I’ve done to spike interest with Megatron.”

 

A grunt made itself known as the shuttle traversed the cold reaches of space with little care, the sound laced with static and some mild interference. “Can’t say I could tell you, kid. The ol’ warmonger’s never taken interest in anyone from our post till now. Remember me when you become famous, huh?”

 

A soft smile began to form at the corners of white lip components, the curve widening until it was a full-blown grin, the lithe mech laughing. “You’ll be foremost on my mind, assuming Megatron has a positive interest in me.” The colorful mech added as he settled himself, the conversation clearly helping him keep still and calm. “For all I know I’m going to my own execution.”

 

“Naw!” Take Off guffawed, obviously unconcerned in that sense. “Not with your brother wanderin’ around. I’ve heard he could get Megatron to do whatever he wants if he really wanted to. Kinda creepy guy?”

 

Frequency’s spark fluttered a little before the familiar, painful jab had him tightening his grip on the harness securing him to his seat. “Soundwave has no interest in me. Not since he deleted his emotions and broke our bond.” The younger mech replied, digits flexing in an attempt to quell the shaking.

 

“Oh ya, sorry kid. Keep forgetting what that creep did to you. It still hurts, doesn’t it?”

 

“Yes. More frequently than before.”

 

“Maybe seeing him will make him realize his mistake.”

 

Frequency shut his optics briefly, taking several deep vents to keep himself from going into hysterics, the young mech quickly placing a smile on his faceplates again, relaxing. “I doubt it. Doesn’t matter though. I’ve got Buzzsaw here. He’s all I need.” The tricolor mech answered, placing a gentle servo  atop the cyberbird that was currently preening in his lap.

 

“Oh yeah, good ol’ Buzzsaw’ll take care of you.” Take Off responded, not at all missing the brokenness in his young companion’s voice, it was so badly hidden.

 

Soundwave’s destruction of their twin bond had devastated the sweet mech, but Frequency had continued on, attempted to grow past it. His bond to Buzzsaw had definitely helped, but there would always be something missing for him.

 

The shuttle couldn’t understand how Frequency’s own brother could do something so terrible to him, without a care of how much it could hurt his twin.

 

Maybe that was why Soundwave had deleted his emotions first… So that he wouldn’t _care_.

 

“We’re here, kid. Make sure you and your simbiot are strapped in. Don’t want to have to clean you outta my cargo hold.”

 

Frequency laughed again as Buzzsaw climbed up his chassis, little claws clicking against the metal until he was able to settle himself on his adoptive creator’s chassis, claws digging in to ensure he wouldn’t be knocked loose by the upcoming landing.

 

Absently stroking the little bird’s helm, Frequency grabbed a hold on the overhead bar, more for just his own comfort than to keep himself in his seat – his harness would do that – and thought over the eons he’d been separated from his twin. He’d been hurt and struggled to survive, but then he’d found Buzzsaw. The poor simbiote’s host had been killed in a bombing, Buzzsaw himself barely older than a hatchling when Frequency took him in. He’d cared for the simbiote until he was back to full strength, had even searched for someone talented enough to convert his frame to a host-type, but the war had seen to it that no specialist truly existed. At least not among the Decepticons. Hence, Frequency and Buzzsaw had had to make do with what they had, with the hopes that they could one day bond more fully.

 

Frequency was jerked from his thoughts when the shuttle began to rock and rattle, Take Off entering the atmosphere as the hold groaned and shook.

 

Clenching his denta the tricolor decepticon gripped more tightly at the bar, his free servo pressing firmly against Buzzsaw to make sure the little cyberbird wasn’t jostled loose as he squawked in indignation.

 

The rattling stopped after a few more kliks, allowing Frequency to slowly relax while Buzzsaw continued his ranting, chirping and hopping around in a circle.

 

“Sorry, ‘Saw. Atmosphere’s pretty gnarly around here.”

 

“Where is ‘here’, Take Off?” Frequency questioned curiously, having never thought to ask before. All he knew was that he’d been summoned by Megatron.

 

“Uh…” There was a pause as the shuttle seemed to think, “don’t know. Some place I’ve never been too before.”

 

Frequency sat forwards a little – careful to not knock Buzzsaw out of his lap – as the shuttle brought up an image of a green and blue marbled planet.

 

“It’s very pretty.”

 

Take Off snorted. “If you say so.”

 

Unbothered by his companion’s disinterest, Frequency studied the planet that was apparently where his twin resided. He wondered if he’d see Soundwave when he arrived? Would his brother come to meet him?

 

Silence reigned as Take Off flew towards the planet, seemingly heading for whatever coordinate’s he’d been given by Megatron. That was the odd thing: Megatron _himself_ had ordered for Frequency to be brought to the Nemesis. There hadn’t been even the vaguest of explanations, just simple orders that left so many questions unasked, unanswered.

 

Why him?

 

“Here we go, champ,” Take Off announced as he landed, Frequency unbuckling himself as the cargo doors opened with a soft _hiss_ , releasing the pressure it had maintained for the duration of their journey.  

 

Frequency climbed down from the shuttle, looking around at the strange world around him as Take Off transformed. It was dark, stars twinkling in the night sky as the two mechs took in their surroundings, though with very different reactions. Take Off observed the trees and other organic plants with some interest while his smaller companion had the expression of an awed sparkling.

 

“It’s so beautiful…” Frequency murmured softly, crouching down to get closer to a large patch of colorful flowers, Buzzsaw flitting amongst the trees, bond humming with happiness, the moonlight reflecting off the white of his armor to give an almost ghostly affect to him.

 

“This planet is full of foreign plants and substances, but they are very similar to Cybertron’s. Your reaction is illogical.”

 

Frequency jerked in surprise, pushing himself back up to his feet as quickly as possible to regard the large, purple mech standing a little ways away. “Who are you?” He demanded, Take Off snorting from somewhere behind him, the shuttle stepping forwards now. “That’s Shockwave.”

 

Vaguely familiar with the name and the mech it represented, Frequency shifted and dipped his helm awkwardly. “I apologize, sir. I was never truly involved with the higher ranking Decepticons.” The tricolor mech announced nervously as the scientist just regarded him silently, his lack of face or emotion in his EM putting the slim mech even further on edge.

 

“It is logical you know little of your own faction. It was planned, after all.”

 

Shockwave’s words truly bothered Frequency, the young mech frowning as he turned to look up at Take Off, the shuttle looking just as uncomfortable as he himself felt.

 

“Come, Frequency. I have much to tell you, and little time to do so,” the purple mech ordered, turning away from the young mech to lead the way to wherever it was that Shockwave was planning on taking the newcomer. “Someone will be by to see to your needs, Take Off. For now I must give Frequency some news.”

 

Shifting, the dark grey shuttle just nodded a little, orange optics suspicious though he didn’t say anything, casting Frequency an encouraging look when the young mech looked back at him, obviously uncomfortable and a little frightened.

 

Navigating the woodland, Frequency silently wondered why they weren’t using their alt-modes, especially since it would be much faster. He realized it may be that Shockwave wasn’t a flight-frame like he was, and therefore, would be unable to keep up with him.

 

“I’m sure your curious as to why you’ve been summoned after all this time.” Shockwave spoke up as a run down building appeared in the distance, surrounded by trees and effectively camouflaged for how large it was.

 

“Yes, sir.” Frequency answered quickly when he realized the heavier mech was waiting for an answer, nervously following as he was lead up to the massive bay doors leading into the building.

 

Here they stopped as Shockwave typed in a nearby code, the heavy steel doors grinding loudly as they separated and drew back into the wall to allow them entry.

 

“The Decepticon cause has need of you now. It was suspected that not all of those in command would survive the duration of the war, and now it’s been made reality. You are the replacement.”

 

Frequency slowed to a stop as they came to another set of doors – these ones smaller than the last, no doubt leading into a room – and tried to wrap his helm around what Shockwave had just said. One of those in high command had offlined? Who had it been? Why had he been chosen to replace a _commander_??? There were so many others better fit for the job!! What about Thundercracker? Blast Off? Even Swindle could do a better job than he!!

 

“Why me, sir? I’m unranked. I don’t have anything to offer the cause in a place of command!”

 

The single, red optic turned towards the obviously nervous mech, Shockwave regarding him for a moment before turning away to finish typing in the codes for the doors to open. “You have what we need: the technological abilities—”

 

The doors slid open to let them into a dark room, lights beginning to flick on one after the other, slowly illuminating the room and what was laid out in it.

 

“And the frame.”

 

Frequency’s spark choked him as the grayed frame was illuminated by bright, overhead lighting. For a moment he thought it was a trick of his spark again, an image created from his wish to see his brother again, but when teal optics quickly investigated the frame that had once been a deep purple, he realized that this was truly Soundwave.

 

He was dead.

 

“Wh-what…? What happened to him?”

 

Shockwave regarded him with unfeeling silence, servos clasped behind his back as he approached the gurney holding the deceased decepticon. “Mortally wounded in combat with the autobots. Needless to say, Soundwave was almost invaluable, but I’ve made sure that you could succeed him should he die. You have the same frame, the same technological gifts, so you can replace him without anyone knowing.” The scientist explained, obviously uncaring for the younger mech’s distress. “Soundwave’s death would cause discord should anyone find out. Starscream would logically take advantage of the supposed weakness, and the Decepticons cannot chance that. You will replace your twin, take up his name and colors, his personality.”

 

Shaking his helm in disbelief as he stared at the slack faceplates of his brother, faceplates that he hadn’t seen for eons, Frequency had to lean against the gurney to keep from falling. “You expect me to pretend to be my brother?” He questioned quietly, shaking.

 

“I order you to be your brother,” a new voice sounded, dark and authorative, all around frightening as Frequency turned to regard the towering silver mech that was approaching from the side.

 

He hadn’t seen Lord Megatron when he’d entered.

 

“I _can’t_ my lord! It’s impossible for me to perfectly impersonate him! Our voices are different, we’ve always been so different!”

 

“Your opinion is illogical,” Shockwave answered, causing Frequency to turn back to look at him again, “Soundwave had undertaken a vow of silence. Never once did he speak a word while among the Decepticon ranks, instead using recordings to provide his input when he felt it was needed. You will be expected to take this vow as well.”

 

Frequency looked back and forth between to the two bigger mechs, feeling quite like a trapped cyberwolf with two hunters closing in on him. “Vow of silence?”

 

“Soundwave swore to never speak a word until Lord Megatron was placed upon the throne again.” Shockwave responded, looking the younger mech up and down for a moment. “Your lack of knowledge is appaling.”

 

Glancing towards his brother’s body again, Frequency swallowed nervously, digits twitching as he tried to keep them from trembling. “My brother was very loyal.” He stated blankly.

 

Megatron stepped closer now so the smaller mech was forced to look upwards in order to meet his faceplates. “He was one of my most trusted officers. His loss will crush the decepticons and give the autobots the edge they need to win the war. That is if Starscream doesn’t get it first.” The ex-gladiator announced darkly, leaning downwards slightly. “How loyal are _you_ , my dear Frequency?”

 

There was something in the way Megatron said his designation that had Frequency shudder, inadvertently stepping backwards from the larger mech. The decepticon cause had always been important to Soundwave, so why shouldn’t it be important to him? If his brother was willing to abandon him in order to keep the decepticons strong, then he should honor his brother’s obvious wishes.

 

“I will do as you command, my lord. I will take the vow, and I will honor both you and my brother’s memory in your service.”

 

The fanged smile that appeared on Megatron’s lips was predatory, Frequency looking away, unnerved by the sight.

 

“Then Shockwave will see to your transformation. He will instruct you on how you are to act and you will follow it to the letter. We cannot afford for anyone to know your true identity.” Megatron announced, those final words making Frequency feel uneasy.

 

Out in the forest – out of sight and hearing of Frequency – was a single explosion, flames lighting the area around it as birds fled and a coyote barked, then it was quiet again, the light fading away into the concealing darkness of night.


	3. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the autobots begin to suspect something's up.

“Repairs seem to be integrating perfectly… Shockwave did a good job.”

 

Frequency silently regarded the red medic from where he stood, hidden optics roaming the perfect frame for a brief klik before turning full attention back onto Knockout’s faceplates.

 

“There’s not even a sign left of the damage he described,” the medic was talking aloud, but Frequency doubted Knockout was truly talking to him, the mech appearing detached as the red decepticon flipped through his datapad.

 

Shockwave stood nearby, watching silently.

 

The scientist had done his best to replicate Soundwave’s looks with the equipment he had. The helm had been slightly remodified to add an additional set of helm spikes along the crown of the younger mech’s helm, special oral medications given to Frequency that would cause his color nanites to take on the dark purple of his deceased brother. The half-visor had been replaced with a dark, full-face mask. There was little Shockwave had been able to do to modify Frequency’s frame into that of a host-mech, the scientist lacking the proper equipment and parts to do that. Hence, Buzzsaw must remain in place over Frequency’s chassis whenever they were in complete sight of others, whether autobot or decepticon.

 

“Well, everything seems fine. Spark frequency seems clear,” Knockout looked up from his datapad now, “everything’s in working order.”

 

“Logical considering I was the one conducting the repairs.” Shockwave answered as he slowly stepped closer, regarding “Soundwave” for a moment before turning towards the medic. “From now on, I will be taking control of Soundwave’s medical care.”

 

Knockout frowned, taken aback by the news as he looked back and forth between the two higher-ranking officers. “Why? I assure you I’m perfectly capable of-”

 

“Lord Megatron’s orders.”

 

Those words were enough for Knockout to shut his mouth, though there was still a clearly unhappy expression on his faceplates. “As you wish,” the smaller mech answered, turning to go and continue repairs on a nearby drone.

 

“I require the release of all his medical records. Nothing will be kept within the medbay.” Shockwave announced, still unmoving from where he stood, single optic completely focused on the red grounder.

 

Frequency straightened up as Knockout turned towards him, the tall, lithe mech tilting his helm towards Shockwave. “Soundwave, requests permission to return to bridge.” The mech questioned, using several different recordings to conduct the sentence, drawing each piece from the databanks downloaded from Soundwave’s HUD.

 

“A logical request, Soundwave. You may return to your duties, but you will come to me if you meet any difficulties.”

 

Fixed under that red gaze, Frequency shifted slightly before just turning and slowly making his way out of the medbay, drawing up a map of the Nemesis from within his brother’s databanks, his HUD quickly highlighting the quickest way to the command bridge.

 

It was disconcerting, “wearing” his brother’s frame and having his databanks downloaded into his own HUD.

 

Frequency silently reflected over the past week. He’d met some of the other Decepticons, though not in a way where he was introduced (he was expected to already know them, Soundwave’s data helpfully supplying designations and any relevant information), and was slowly settling into a routine. The Decepticons had been told that “Soundwave” had been horrifically damaged and repaired in Shockwave’s lab back on Cybertron. It was a viable excuse, specifically since half a dozen decepticons had seen Soundwave get shot down.

 

Even now Frequency could feel the optics on his frame: searching for the wounds that had been so horrifically described in the stories told during the off-time hours.

 

A single glance had them turning away, except…. Except he still felt as if he were being watched.

 

Frequency stopped in the middle of the hall, hidden optics searching the area in front of him as he tried to identify the source, but there was no one in sight.

 

The feeling vanished almost as quickly as it had come, Frequency half turning as he sensed something nearby, a ghost-like brush against one arm causing him to stiffen, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come.

 

Glancing back down the hall, Frequency reached a servo up to lightly stroke a digit along Buzzsaw’s back, the cyberbird giving a tiny croon of comfort. It did little for the TIC, the mech suspiciously continuing on his way now. No matter what his mind told him, Frequency knew someone or some _thing_ had been there, touched him.

 

***

 

“I don’t see what the problem is. We’re getting good intel and don’t have to work so hard for it.” Ironhide announced loudly from where he sat, one servo supporting his helm as he boredly regarded those at the table.

 

 “That’s just ta problem, ma mech,” Jazz responded from where he sat, the saboteur’s digits laced behind his helm in a lazy way. “Somethin’s not right. ‘Raj has seen ol’ Sounders around, but neither o’ us have seen ta minions.”

 

There was a silence that was clearly a prompt for Jazz to continue, the silver mech sighing loudly as he sat forwards, servos finding their way to the table now. “Soundwave’s symbiotes are gone. Ever since ta accident, there’s been no sign o’ ‘em.”

 

“Killed when he crashed?” Ratchet questioned gruffly, arms crossed over his chassis as he scowled at the younger mech. “We saw what that blast did to Soundwave’s chassis. Primus only knows what it did to them.”

 

“Tha’s the thing. Laserbeak’s jus’ fine.”

 

Optimus Prime sat up a little straight, Ironhide jerked upright, Ratchet scoffed and Red Alert nearly glitched. Only Prowl remained quiet, faceplates as stoic as usual.

 

“Impossible!” Ratchet growled, sitting forwards. “Laserbeak would’ve been scrapped from that blast! I would’ve theorized he was the only reason Soundwave survived!” The medic snapped.

 

Jazz shrugged his shoulders. “Saw ‘im sittin’ pretty on Sounder’s chassis. Perfectly unscathed.” The saboteur answered lamely as silence fell.

 

“What is it you seem to be itchin’ to ask?” Ironhide demanded now, the hot-headed mech glowering at the polyhexian.

 

“I wan’ to go in.” The silver mech answered, uncaring of Ironhide’s obvious annoyance. “Somethin’s up with ta cons, and I wanna find out wha’ it is.”

 

Prowl’s left doorwing flicked as he spoke up for the first time since the beginning of the meeting. “Conducting a mission of that calibre would take megacycles to prepare. Not to mention the lack of meaning it would hold.” The praxian announced coldly.

 

“Prowl, ‘raj got in close enough ta _touch_ Soundwave. Somethin’s up.”

 

“Regardless, Soundwave could still be recovering from his injuries and still somewhat handicapped. There’s no need to call in a mission on this.”

 

Jazz sat forwards now, doorwings tense. “We all saw Soundwave get shot outta the sky, we all thought he was gone for. He all but vanished for nearly a’ orn, then he jus’ shows up again outta the blue?” The silver mech questioned eagerly, “me an’ ma team were in an’ outta the Nemesis. Never once did we see ‘im in ta medbay.”

 

Doorwings flicking in irritation, Prowl moved to speak again when Optimus Prime held up a servo. “Both of you have presented valid points. I believe it’s too early to order a mission on this,” the autobot leader gave Jazz a look to prevent the saboteur from interrupting, “however I find Soundwave’s sudden reappearance to be curious. Jazz will continue surveillance until we decide if a deep undercover is necessary. Until then we will keep this to ourselves.” The prime ordered, his present officers nodding in agreement though Jazz looked a little dejected.

 

Giving a salute when those intense, blue optics turned onto him, Jazz mumbled an affirmative. He was truly disappointed at being restricted to the usual recon, specifically because he was certain something aboard the Nemesis had changed. Megatron was cooking something, and waiting only increased the chances of it being too late.

 

Jazz just had to find enough proof to convince Prowl and Optimus that a deep undercover was needed, then he would fine out what the decepticons were hiding.

 

Or _who_.


	4. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspicions grow and discoveries are made.

“What’s this?” Prowl questioned as a datapad was unceremoniously dropped atop his current pile of paperwork, the praxian giving Jazz a disapproving look as the saboteur sat himself down on the desk, maneuvering himself so his pedes hung over the edge as he faced the tactician.

 

“Somethin’ tha needs your approval,” the silver mech answered with a grin, leaning back a bit with a seductive look.

 

Rolling his optics, Prowl reached out to pick up the datapad and switch it on, frowning once he read the contents. “I thought we made it clear that we weren’t going to conduct a mission, Jazz.” The black and white mech stated in slight annoyance.

 

“Ya said no _deep cover_ missions. This is strictly recon.” Jazz answered.

 

Prowl vented loudly as he dropped the datapad back down on the desk, regarding Jazz in silence for several moments before speaking again. “You wish to infiltrate the Nemesis, but that’s all you’ve said. There’s nothing in here about what you’re looking for, or planning on doing.”

 

Shrugging a little, charming smile still in place, Jazz tilted his helm ever so slightly. “Tha’s cause there’s no way for ma ta know for sure wha’ to look for. All I know is tha somethin’s up an’ it involves Soundwave.” The polyhexian answered, leaning forwards so his faceplates nearly brushed against Prowl’s. “We both know it’s you I gotta convince.” He purred.

 

Scowling, Prowl shoved Jazz’s faceplates away, doorwings a flurry of activity as he regained his composure after a brief moment. “Fine. I’ll approve it so long as you don’t take any loopholes. It’s recon, that’s it, that’s all. No going off and doing your own thing like you usually do.”

 

Jazz gave the other mech an offended look. “Who, me? Nothin’ of ta sort!” He responded in an innocent tone, Prowl eyeing him for a moment before picking up the datapad with a vent.

 

Watching the praxian read through the file again, Jazz leaned closer again, a playful grin on his faceplates. “So watcha doin’ right now? Can ya take a break from all tis slag for ma?” He questioned teasingly.

 

“Jazz?” Prowl questioned without even looking up from the datapad, “yes?” the polyhexian answered with a grin.

 

“Get off my desk.”

 

“Aw, your no fun Prowler.” Jazz answered as he hopped down, purposefully into the reading mech’s lap, causing Prowl to jerk and make a soft noise of surprise. “C’mon, I know ya wanna.”

 

“Jazz you agreed that you wouldn’t bother me when I worked.” The praxian chastised, though it didn’t stop him from reaching up to play with an audial horn.

 

Humming softly in interest, Jazz dimmed his visor with a playful smirk. “What’re ya gonna do about it?” He questioned, relishing the glare his words received.

 

“I could order you to leave.”

 

“Ya, but ya won’t.”

 

Prowl huffed loudly in irritation, though it didn’t last long when talented digits found his doorwings, effectively locating the best spots to coax his frame into warming. “No, I won’t.”

 

***

 

Frequency had no idea how his brother had done this: located and blocked up potential infiltration areas, regulated communications and security, or any of the other tasks he’d been assigned alone. It was so much work that the young mech found himself going without recharge for long periods of time. It wasn’t good for his systems, but making a mistake in his impersonation would no doubt bring unwanted consequences down upon him, so he made a choice… Now he wasn’t sure it was the right one.

 

“I can’t say I understand why you of all mechs would want this.”

 

Standing stock still and silent, Frequency regarded the much shorter mech for several moments before just holding out a servo. He knew that Soundwave’s reputation would make it clear what he wanted, as well as ensuring he wouldn’t be cheated the way he’d heard this mech was capable of.

 

“Impatient, are we? Very well,” the smaller mech shrugged, reaching into subspace to produce the cube full of tiny cylinders. “One a cycle should suffice for a mech your size, but do know there are,” the mech hummed thoughtfully, “ _side effects_.”

 

Frequency straightened up to his full height in frustration, surprising the large-opticked mech. “Swindle, assured product was safe?” The TIC demanded through a series of recordings, the salesmech laughing. “Safe unless you overuse it. Like it or not, Soundwave, even you have to recharge.”

 

“Optimal efficiency, only goal.”

 

“And you won’t achieve that if you fry your circuit boards from lack of adequate defrag cycles.”

 

Now Frequency was getting annoyed. “Swindle, certified medic?” He demanded.

 

Swindle blinked up at him in surprise, briefly speechless. Never had he even heard _gossip_ about Soundwave making some sort of comeback like that! Forget that, he’d never heard of Soundwave asking for _system boosters_.

 

Realizing that this was getting way off track, Frequency snatched the cube of cylinders from the jeep’s servo. “Swindle, promised to keep silent.” The tall, dark mech stated, though it sounded more like a question.

 

“Uh, _guaranteed_.” Swindle answered, bewildered look still in place as Frequency turned away to stalk back down the hall. Buzzsaw gave a quiet chirr to calm his master and remind him to be careful, causing the annoyed mech to slow his walk back to the usual purposeful one always used by Soundwave.

 

Frequency reached up to stroke the young cyberbird comfortingly, but it was also to help ground himself again. Acting like another mech was beginning to take it’s toll. He’d always been a very social mech, and now being forbidding to properly interact with others of the crew or even speak with his own voice was becoming harder with each passing day. Lack of recharge, free time, flying, everything seemed to be against him.

 

Approaching footsteps reached Frequency’s upgraded systems long before they’d actually arrive, giving the young mech time to shove the cube of system boosters into his subspace.

 

“Ah, Soundwave, I was wondering where I’d find you.”

 

Frequency inclined his helm ever so slightly to the seeker that appeared in front of him. The first time he’d ever met Starscream the devious mech had been marked down as an enemy, with tags such as ‘incompetent’ and ‘devious’ describing him. He’d learned that his brother’s personal thoughts on the gray mech were true. Starscream was constantly scheming to try and overthrow Megatron in order to take control of the decepticons, the young mech realizing that that would be disastrous for the cause.

 

“Starscream, reason for searching for Soundwave?” Frequency questioned, the designation sending a bitterness through him as he pieced the correct recordings together. He was getting rather adept at it.

 

Starscream gave Frequency the most condescending look the young mech had ever seen. “Why aren’t you at your post?” The seeker questioned suddenly, causing the TIC to make a face behind his visor. “Soundwave, seeing to repairs of possible infiltration points.” The slim mech responded.

 

“Why don’t you get your little cretins to do it? That’s always the way it was before, wasn’t it?”

 

The SIC’s words struck Frequency speechless, the mech frowning behind his visor in confusion. What? Buzzsaw – or more Laserbeak to everyone else – was sitting just fine on his chassis, right in view of Starscream. And how could a cyberbird do the extensive repairs he’d been conducting all this time?

 

“Starscream, should take care of own tasks. Soundwave, needs to give no explanation.” With those words Frequency decided now would be a good time to bail out of the conversation, quietly walking forwards and taking satisfaction in the way the annoying seeker got out of his way to let him past.

 

The satisfaction was short-lived. The loneliness returned before he even reached the end of the hall.

 

***

 

::What do you make of that?:: Mirage’s voice came over the crouching mech’s comm.

 

Jazz hummed softly to himself as he trailed Soundwave from the vents. “It’s not enough.” He responded after a moment of contemplation. “Prowl’ll jus’ say tha’ Sounders might need ta boosts for his recovery. Migh’ need ta extra boost for his repair nanites. Jus’ cause he looks all pretty on ta outside doesn’ mean he looks good on ta inside.” The silver mech explained as he watched the mysterious mech turn down a side hall.

 

::Why would he subspace them when Starscream showed up then? And why get it from Swindle?:: Mirage’s voice was skeptical now, irritated. He wanted out of the Nemesis as soon as possible, and Jazz had an idea as to why. Something to do with that green scout no doubt.

 

“If ya were Sounders, would ya wan’ Screamer knowin’ ya aren’t as healthy as ya let on?” The TIC prodded as he watched Soundwave disappear from sight now. “No doubt Soundwave wants it secret, so he went to Swindle instead o’ ta medics.” Jazz added as he turned to the right when he came to a branch in the vents. “We need somethin’ solid. Not tha’ we can’ use this. Imma check ta medbay records. If we never saw ‘im in there, maybe he never was. Or his symbiotes for tha’ matter.”

 

Mirage scoffed in response, the spy currently taking up the task of tailing Soundwave. “Medical records won’t be enough to convince Prowl of all mechs to approve you going undercover.” The blue and white mech answered disdainfully, drawing a grin on Jazz’s faceplates. “Maybe not, but _lack_ of records could be enough.”

 

That had Mirage pausing, comm clicking in an aborted attempt to activate before he was able to respond. “What would lack of medical records mean?” He finally asked, silently admitting defeat as Jazz gave a soft laugh. “It would mean ta cons are definitely hidin’ somethin’.”

 

Jazz peered through the grate at the end of the vent, noting who was in the room: Hook, Scrapper, and Knockout. Breakdown was just leaving, which would hopefully mean that the red medic wouldn’t be too far behind.

 

“Got mos’ o’ ta medical crew in medbay. Think ya could draw ‘em out?” Jazz questioned, a sigh followed by a soft affirmative coming over the comm link. A comm link that should’ve been discovered by Soundwave more than half a joor ago. “You’re ta best ‘raj.”

 

“Just remember it when I find myself needing something.” Mirage answered in a clipped tone.

 

It wasn’t much later when an alarm went off, overhead lights dimming as orange lights began to flash, the mechs inhabiting the medbay looking around in confusion for a minute before Scrapper decided to leave the room. The other two followed quickly behind him, though they still looked extremely bewildered, Jazz briefly wondering exactly what sort of alarm Mirage had set off, but such aimless thoughts were pushed out of his helm as he carefully removed the grate from the vent.

 

Lowering the grate to the ground, Jazz easily extricated himself from the now unblocked vent, dropping down to the ground without a sound.

 

Jazz took only a moment to look around before he hopped into the seat directly in front of one of the consoles in the room, just vacated moments ago by Knockout. Tapping on the keys, the screen lit up with a message blinking on it, requesting a passcode. “Raj?”

 

“Got it.” The blue and white mech materialized beside him, reaching around the other mech so he could reach the keys, digits flying as he worked through the systems within a matter of moments, half a dozen screens popping up on different decepticons. “That’s why you’re the best,” Jazz hummed, clearing the console of the present records to begin his own search for Soundwave’s.

 

“Anything?” Mirage asked impatiently as Jazz frowned at the screen, hidden optics darting back and forth as if to make sure what he was seeing was real. “Raj?”

 

“What?”

 

“Soundwave’s got no medical records. They’re gone.”

 

Mirage was at his side again in a matter of moments, the blue and white mech shoving his superior’s servos away to begin typing again, puzzled frown on his usually handsome faceplates. “They were deleted.” The noble-born mech finally announced even as he continued combing the systems. “It says here all of Soundwave’s medical records were handed over to Shockwave.”

 

Optical ridges furrowed as Jazz leaned back to look up at Mirage, the two sharing a knowing look. “Can ya retrieve any o’ his files?” The silver mech asked suddenly,  the other mech opening his wrist port to unspool his cable, placing it between his denta as he started typing again. “Possible, but it’ll be partial files. Whoever deleted these weren’t done by Shockwave or Soundwave. I’ll need time.” He answered, plugging into the medical systems.

 

“Sure Soundwave won’ know you’re here wit’ ya pluggin’ into ta systems?” Jazz questioned, the younger mech giving a snort. “He hasn’t picked up our comm signatures yet, has he?”

 

Jazz nodded as he vacated the chair so Mirage could sit.

 

“I’ll need you to be lookout,” the blue and white noble announced even as he began to work.

 

Jazz moved over to the door, listening for any unwanted approach as his comrade worked away at downloading the files they needed. In his mind he wasn’t sure that it was enough to fully convince Prowl, but it would definitely help in getting other officers on board with his desire to go undercover. Regardless of what the ‘evidence’ was, nobody could dismiss the fact that Soundwave’s medical records had been deleted and the matter of his medical care transferred to Shockwave.

 

“Raj?” Jazz spoke up in a quiet tone, the spy making a grunt but not looking up or turning around to face him. “Think they’re comin’ back.” The silver mech stated, moving in a quick crouch back towards the vent. “We gotta go. Jus’ take wha’ ya were able to get.”

 

Mirage just gave a quick nod of assent and unplugged, standing as he shut everything back down and put up the files that had been opened previously. Activating his electrodisrupter he followed Jazz back over to the vent, the spec ops mech easily swinging back up onto the vent without the slightest sound, Mirage replacing the vent directly before the doors slid open to admit the previous medical crew.

 

The three were complaining amongst themselves about the ‘false alarm’ and why mechs ‘weren’t doing their jobs’, their distraction with their irritation making it easy for the noble to escape the room.

 

“Wha’ did ya get?” Jazz questioned as he travelled through the maze that made up the venting system of the Nemesis.

 

::Not much. I was only able to partially recover most of it.:: Mirage responded. ::Need help getting out?::

 

Jazz paused before answering, crouching stalk still as he listened to sound of angry voices nearby. “Scratch tha’. Ya get out an’ get whatever ya got down on a datapad for me when I get back. There’s somethin’ else I needa check out.”

 

::Don’t do anything stupid.::

 

Smiling faintly at the noble’s statement, Jazz just sent a simple ping of acknowledgement, the silver mech carefully following the sound of angry voices that echoed through the vents somewhere to his left.

 

***

 

“What’s the point of having these systems when they’re always malfunctioning?” Starscream screeched loudly. “Either that or it’s the autobots, _traipsing_ through our base because they’ve been able to the past orn!”

 

Frequency remained silent as he watched the seeker pace back and forth, ranting over the most current false alarm.

 

“Soundwave,” Megatron turned his attention onto the slim mech, who stiffened.

 

Understanding that the warlord wanted an explanation, Frequency mentally scrambled to find one that would be logical. “Nemesis, secure. Autobot activity, not currently a threat.” The tall, slim mech answered, thinking quickly to add as much detail as he could. “False alarms, due to lack of maintenance. Soundwave, working to update all systems.” The tall mech turned his helm in Starscream’s direction. “Systems, given little attention while Soundwave was incarcerated.”

 

Good, turn the blame onto the little bastard.

 

Starscream’s wings straightened up as gave his archenemy a leer, carefully watching Megatron out of the corner of his optic. “Your incarceration caused several issues, specifically with keeping Autobots out of the Nemesis! Systems were the least of our worries!” The seeker snapped, though he seemed to be on edge.

 

“Care of systems, invaluable to keeping autobots out. Soundwave, capable of completing all tasks. Starscream, claims to be inadequate?”

 

Frequency loved the way Starscream was looking at him in shock, bewildered and quite obviously nervous. It was all he could do to keep from laughing, the only thing keeping him from doing so being the way Megatron was looking at him. It was a clear warning for him to remain silent.

 

“It seems we need to put more mechs on the security detail.” Megatron announced as he regarded his two top officers, one a devious snake and the other a questionably good replacement for one. “Soundwave, when will the systems be up to their previous state?”

 

Frequency shifted, searching his HUD for an answer. “Completion, within the orn.” He finally answered, Megatron giving a soft rumble, the sound drawing a confused look onto Starscream’s faceplates as he glanced back and forth between his lord and enemy.

 

“Adequate.” Megatron finally announced, pushing past the two smaller mechs to leave the room.

 

From the vents, Jazz watched with obvious curiosity. Reaching up to activate his comm, Jazz watched the two remaining mechs closely. “Raj?” He questioned, turning to make his way towards the exit, “I think I jus’ found somethin’ that’ll have Prowl givin’ us the go ahead.”


End file.
